The Nightmare of Doom
by HeartElyse
Summary: "It shall remove the very soul from your body. And do not think I will be merciful; I know you're identity now, Tony Stark. I can use that against you." With a surveillance mission gone wrong, Tony finds himself trapped in the iron clutches of Doom, yet with Doom discovering his most deepest secret, Tony's world as he knows it might just turn from Hell to Chaos...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

TONY'S POV

"You are no match against the rathe of DOOM!"

Screams shredded unrelentingly from Tony's throat. His vision was a havoc of black and green, plumes of gas like a swarm of hornets that danced before his eyes. His armour was caving inwardly beneath the seething pressure, splintering and disintegrating into crimson and golden blades, embedding into his scorched and bloodied flesh. He couldn't run. He couldn't stand. He couldn't even move. He could only lie beneath the sweltering beams of energy that assaulted him from multiple directions, unprotected by the iron that was melting into simmering coals against his skin, hearing Pepper shriek repeatedly through his commlink, "Get up, Tony! Get up!"

 _I can't, Pepper. I'm sorry..._

The scent of flesh burning caught in his nostrils. The metallic taste of blood coated his lips. Involuntary tears streamed free.

Even the helmet shielding his identity melted away...revealing what he'd hoped no one would ever see... _Himself_... His identity... Splayed out in broad daylight... With no where to hide...

And he could do nothing. After all his struggling to keep the manic monster in his clutched, Doom still managed to slip free just like the lethal viper he was and steal all he possessed, taking it with little effort, despite all Tony had laboured to possess it in the first place.

Tony gripped the ground in his trembling fingers as agony simmered within his bones and gurgled in the blood that had turned to sludge in his veins, despite the new heart pulsating with fracturing pressure against his ribcage. He shrunk from the excruciating afflictions gnawing at him alive, desperately yearning to seep through the crackling cement beneath him so Doom could no longer reach him. Yet he doubted he could miraculously twist into an intangible form just as Ghost could whenever he pleased.

Putrid smoke was rising, burning his lungs, searing his throat and stinging his eyes. He was howling and choking so much that his chest would no longer heave in breath, as though iron hands had clasped their cold fingers around his neck and squeezed so tightly that he wouldn't be surprised if they punctured through his tedious skin. With a hint of delirium, he wondered which would kill him first; burning alive, or drowning on his futile attempts to breathe.

Just as he was dawned with the reality that both might just cease his existence at once however, the blaze of acid-green and obsidian dispersed into nothingness and the ominous, metallic features of Doom hovered over his sizzling body like the Grim Reaper looming stoically over the dying, scythe in hand to deliver the final chilling blow. Doom's scarlet orbs scathed into his eyes, observing Tony's face, identifying him amongst the clotted blood and charring iron.

"Tony Stark," he drawled, the icy edge of steel lingering in his mechanical tone. "The mere child behind the scraps of metal they name 'Iron Man'; how pathetic."

Tony gulped hagged amounts of oxygen into his lungs, yet as Doom raised his metal fingers, breath gushed from him as quickly as it had returned, his nauseous abdomen curdling with frigid dread.

"You never fail to rile the fury of Doom. Now I shall conjure a spectrum of despair. Familiar with this, I believe?"

Doom spun his hands in front of himself with a circular motion, unleashing a vortex of black and green.

"No," Tony rasped, his azure eyes bulging in their sockets as memory flooded back of his most terrifying nightmare he'd ever experienced in his entire life.

"It shall remove the very soul from your body. And do not think I will be merciful; I know you're identity now, Tony Stark. I can use that against you."

A vast hole expanded within the centre of the vortex. From its maw crawled out a disfigured hand, large enough to grasp a meagre tower in its palms. It lunged towards Tony's crumpled body and clamped around his torso. A quivering yowl broke ceaselessly from his lips as a sensation of internal tearing and shredding rendered through his being, ebony cubes correlating across his vision until they veiled everything with black...


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey guys!**

 **I just wanted to say a big thank you to anyone that has bothered to have a look at this story and has read up to this point. To the few people who reviewed, I just want to personally thank you guys!**

 **SilverPedals1402: Thank you so much! Your feedback is really helpful and very much appreciated. When I saw your review, I became quickly desperate to post the next part. I hope you enjoy Chapter 1 as much as you have enjoyed the Prologue :)**

 **Anna Katari: Thank you! I've been wanting to write a piece for IMAA for a really long time. Just to answer your question, this doesn't really have anything to do with the original episodes; it's more of a 'What if things happened differently' scenario.**

 **I hope you guys like this and feel free to review and favourite!**

 **XXX**

 **Chapter 1**

NO ONE'S POV

Victor Von Doom sauntered away from the scene as Police, journalists and S.H.I.E.L.D Aircrafts arrived, circling the depleting form of Tony Stark with a sense of stunned bewilderment. Of course, no one dared to pause Doom in his travels; if he'd attacked the superhero vigilante or not, it could't be questioned. He had Diplomatic Immunity. Regardless of his actions on American soil, he could not be touched.

Photographers snapped shots of the scene, unruly and brutal on their flashing cameras. Live broadcasts of the situation dazzled across screens all across the globe in a matter of seconds, with reporters gasping over the truth that Tony Stark was the elusive Iron Man, and gasping even more over the fact that he had been defeated. Police formed barriers around the teen's body to prevent curious civilians from straying too near. Yet none of them actually moved closer. None of them actually kneeled down by the boy's side. None of them actually checked for a pulse of life, a heartbeat, a breath. None of them actually checked if Tony Stark was still alive.

Except S.H.I.E.L.D of course. Agent Hill and Agent Romanova, A.K.A Black Widow lowered down their Aircrafts and with a large, sweeping metal claw unfurling from the boot of Agent Hill's Aircraft, gently grasped the delicate form of Iron Man around the middle and raised him securely from the fractured road below. Vitals expanded across the tablet in front of her.

"His vitals are very low, even without his heart condition," she reported. "We need to return him to the Helicarrior immediately for medical attention."

"Copy that, Agent Hill," Black Widow replied, spinning the heels of the Aircraft back around to make a hasty flight back to base.

This was unfolding on Live TV and Howard, Roberta, Pepper and Rhodey all witnessed it in their own special way.

Howard, busing himself with filing paperwork had only sighed when he vaguely heard the common phrase 'Iron Man' reverberating from the holo TV wired into his office. Yet it wasn't until he also heard the name 'Tony Stark' paired with that phrase that his head jolted upwards. Of course, he'd always had the inkling feeling that his son was Iron Man, yet only he was supposed to know that, right?

His gaze trailed to the screen and at the sight that bored into his eyes without his entire consent, the pit of his stomach plummeted down into the bottomless depths of dread, just as the Titanic had sunk to the floor of the frigid ocean. The files slid from his desk and fluttered to the ground with a dampened thud. Instinctively, he reached for his phone and feverishly dialled a pattern of numbers before waiting for the other end to pick up.

"This is Howard Stark. I was hoping you could give me a lift to the S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrior..."

Roberta was just returning home after a particularly gruelling day at work when she turned on the TV out of routine and froze before the seductive screen, barely registering as the wine glass brimming with sherry seeped from her fingers and shattered into many minuscule pieces at her feet.

"Bringing you Live coverage of this very delicate scene unfolding. Breaking News, to all our viewers at home! I repeat! Breaking News! The late seventeen year-old genius, Tony Stark is in fact Iron Man! At 4:30PM this afternoon, he was found unconscious in a critical condition with severe burns and bruising in the middle of Time Square! He has been removed by the international services of S.H.I.E.L.D to their headquarters for immediate medical attention..."

Roberta wasn't a slow thinker; her Lawyer's Degree would never allow that. The information was all she needed to retrieve her car keys from the kitchen bench and rush back out the door...

Doom had fried Tony's helmet to the point that his communications were rendered unresponsive. Pepper and Rhodey peered with widening eyes at the screen that had crackled into screeching pixels of static.

"Tony! Tony!" Pepper cried frantically, gripping her shaking fingers around the screen and jostling it about, causing the Wheel-Communicator to flip forward and twirl in place. Yet still nothing formed on the screen.

Rhodey held his mouth agape, jaw hanging low in a heartbeat of shock; how quickly had that escalated into disaster? After a moment however, he gathered some form of control over himself, dashing over to his lustrous suit of War Machine armour.

"I'll suit up, while you check the News Feed," he flashed at Pepper, who surprisingly enough didn't argue, bounding over to the multiple-coloured projector and began to tap her fingers rapidly across its holographic surface.

Just as he'd sealed his mask over his features, Pepper made a sound that was half between a cheer and a sob. "S.H.I.E.L.D's taken him to the Helicarrior."

"Well, let's go to the Helicarrior..."

Each in a whirl of panic, both family and friends collided in the Docking Bay of the Helicarrior, luckily Roberta arriving last to give Rhodey barely a few heartbeats to shed off his armour and conceal it, although he truly didn't think he cared if his mother found out or not anymore. Agent Hill greeted them without even a friendly 'hello', but instead escorted the group straight to the medic wards, their heels pattering heavily across the steel floors. None of them complained however; their concern was so potent that formalities just seemed inappropriate.

They slowed to a halt in front of one of the cast iron doors and Agent Hill waved an almost careless palm across the hand scanner integrated into the lock panel. She marched into the room as the door sprung aside, leaving the others following feverishly in her wake.

Yet if they considered themselves feverish, a new word would need to be created to describe Tony's condition.

Doctors and nurses were skirted around both sides of the cot with a moaning and convulsing Tony thrashing blindly in his coiled and tangled bedsheets, his raw and crimson-covered skin streaming with rivers of sweat, his cheeks flared a harsh red with his eyes squeezed shut against something that no one but himself could see. Objects ranging from tiny gadgets to large machinery were drifting unsupported through thin air as the computer screen streaking across the far wall was spewing out lists, a top of lists, a top of lists of information, words rapidly forming and then disappearing to be replaced by new ones in an erratic display of confusion and disorientation. General Fury was observing the chaos from the very centre of the space, his dark features stoic and indifferent as his one-eyed gaze remained trained on the bed as nurses hurriedly fastened restrains over the boy's scorched wrists and ankles.

"General Fury," Agent Hill regarded, taking her place by Fury's side. "The visitors are here."

"Good," was his only reply as he turned his attention to the anxious group that awaited desperately for news, but more sincerely to the two teens that struggled not to shrink beneath his stare. "Now, do you know what's happened to Tony?"

Pepper and Rhodey exchanged a momentary look, her vibrant hazel eyes catching his rich brown ones with a sense of hesitance and fear. They were aware of the repercussions if they told the truth; then their secret would completely shatter. Yet the doctors had to know if there ever was a hope of saving Tony. With each swivelling their gaze bravely back on Fury, they nodded in unison.

"It was Victor Von Doom," Rhodey answered with a laboured exhale of breath. "We both told him he shouldn't go, at least not alone, but he wouldn't listen! He just said he was going to watch over Doom, to make sure he didn't detonate anymore explosives that could wipe out the whole state of New York or anything like that. Yet Doom could already sense the interference from miles away and struck when Tony least expected it. Doom easily overpowered him and put him into this kind of dream simulation thing..."

"More like a nightmare," Pepper piped up. "He's had it happen before. He said it was the worst nightmare he'd ever had. Yet it's something Doom said this time that spooked the ebby-gebbies out of me; he said, "And do not think I will be merciful; I know you're identity now, Tony Stark. I can use that against you.". That doesn't sound too good, does it?"

"No," stated Fury with an edge to his tone, his eye flicking back to the boy still struggling on the bed. "It doesn't."

"It sounds to me as though Doom's planning to use Tony's worst fears against him, because unlike the last time, he knows exactly who lies behind that armour," Howard murmured, his brows creased as his fingers combed over his chin.

A chilling silence quivered after those words, only broken by the sound of Tony's feeble groaning and whimpering.

Roberta abruptly released an infuriated huff, raising her hands up before allowing them to flop back to her sides in defeat, whirling around with dagger-sharp eyes jabbing into her son. "And how long were you planning to hide this from me, James? Tony could've been killed numerous times! You two could've been killed just by being apart of it! And I assure you, Patricia Potts that I'll be informing your father about this! I can't believe I let this slip under my nose!"

Just as the teenagers were about to apply fuel to the argument with their depthless excuses and denial, General Fury raised a firm hand and mouths clasped shut in an instant.

"Not that this isn't at all very touching, but it will have to wait; we have more pressing matters to attend to."

They each nodded, Rhodey and Pepper hanging their heads with their cheeks flushing while Roberta remained silent with her icy glare stilled jarring into them.

There was a moment of soundlessness, before the din was broken by a trembling, panicked voice. "Dad... Dad..."

The nurses scattered from the bed as Howard strode in between them to his son's unconscious side. He caressed a hand down Tony's damp and brittle cheek, as if reaching out to him amongst the internal turmoil that was brewing within him. Tony's forehead was creased and beneath the flaking blood and redness blossoming on his cheekbones, he was deathly pale.

"I'm here, Tony," he replied softly, leaning over the cot to whisper into his son's ear. "What did you get yourself into?"

Tony shifted, his meagre shivers turning into violent spasms that raged down his spine in endless waves. His breaths were turning into fretful gasps, strangled sobs that caused his lungs to rise and fall at a brisk rate. His hands gripped the bedsheets so tightly that his blistered knuckles had turned a sickly white.

"No," he whimpered with an immense shudder. "No, no, no!"

"Sir!" One of the doctors was peering at his tablet with widening eyes. "His vitals are going...off the charts!"

Without warning, the computer screen on the far wall released a blood-curdling screech, infecting into a manic pool of static, greying dots swarming over the screen in shockwaves. All four of the visitors covered their ears in a desperate attempt to separate themselves from the horrible sound. It only lasted for several heartbeats before an image formed over the screen of darkness, and amidst the darkness lay a field of smoke and debris, and amidst that stood Tony, his eyes flying around the scene, barging through the rubble in search for something or someone.

"How-how is he doing that?" Roberta croaked, her breath hitching within her throat.

"It's because of Extremis," General Fury replied, gazing at the screen intently. "It's a modern simulation of the formula used to create Captain America. In Tony's case, he can communicate with technology using his mind."

The Tony on the screen was scrambling through the debris, his eyes brimming with water, as though he knew of the monstrosity he might find. Following the oozing trail of blood, he raised a relatively large, scorched shard of steel to reveal something that no one ever wanted to see. Tony crumpled to his knees.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys!**

 **Thanks for waiting patiently! The update is finally here! I'm sorry if I agonised you a bit too much.**

 **Anyway, just a warning before we start; I did write this story a little while ago. I must admit that in some parts, I can't help but cringe. I don't know if that's the same for you. It could just be me; after all, I did write this!**

 **To the people who reviewed:**

 **MelanieDanacohen: Thanks for the observation! I appreciate your review!**

 **SilverPedals1402: Thank you so much! I don't mind your complaining; it makes me happy to know that someone is enjoying my story so much! The screen scenario is a bit unique; I thought I might as well try it, since no one else has. I'm so grateful for your review and I really hope you enjoy the next part of this story!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

TONY'S POV

Tony's heart was quivering, on the verge of falling to pieces as it strained painstakingly to keep itself together. Tears bubbled just beneath his eyelids, threatening to purge forth. Rivers of scarlet blood flowed over the dust, paving narrow streams across the plumes of ash, painting it a rusty hue of copper. The figure just lay in a pool of murky crimson, barren of the life that had once flared so magnificently in his azure eyes, instead with skin that was as transparent and frigid as ice.

Not a single pulse of life emitted from Howard Stark. Not a breath. Not even the slightest heartbeat. He was just a shattered shell, empty with nothing remaining inside. And the numbness reached out to Tony like an intoxicating fume, seeping into his being, freezing his bones, stilling his blood, even chilling his soul.

Tony's stomach was furling and he fought desperately against the seething bile that frothed at the back of his throat. He shrivelled to his knees, hand held over his gaping mouth as his lips quivered, shuddering gasps sending white, icy mist trembling through the putrid air.

"Dad!" Tony howled, reaching out with shaking fingers to give the figure's shoulders a tentative jolt. "Dad! Dad!"

Tony felt his throat seal over as his eyes hazed with watery diamonds, scarlet smearing across his vision like glistening rubies discovered in greying stone. Thick, sweltering tears flooded down his cheeks in rivulets, pouring even harder as he felt his heart rupture against his ribcage, an aching, throbbing sensation of something vital shredding to pieces. He grasped the collar of his father's shirt, mortified at the feeling of hot, curdling blood trickling over his fingers. "Please, don't do this! I can't loose you! Not again!"

Tony jerked the limp form fiercely, waiting for a response. Even a spasm of movement. A flicker of life. Yet there was nothing. Not the venturous curve of his lips that occupied his features whenever a crazed idea popped into his mind. Not the shimmer of eagerness that sparked within his cerulean irises whenever he was constructing his idea into something touchable and subsisting. Not even the warmth Tony remembered resonating from every fibre of his being when he'd first seen his son after two years of separation, beaming with joy that they were together again once more, yet cast with sorrow for all the time that had passed between them, leaving their once invincible bond in tatters. Only a ghost, a shadow of what had truly existed before death had wrenched it away. And this time, there was no masquerade.

A scream tore scathingly from Tony's throat as he released his father's collar and hammered his fists rigorously across his father's chest, anger, frustration and grief shrouding his senses. And yet still the numbness of death clung to the air like smoke.

Tony bit down harshly upon his lip, trying desperately to prevent the torrent of sobs that were quaking his form. Yet with the dense, salty tears streaming ceaselessly down his cheeks, the sobs broke forth anyway, heaving and suffocating. He couldn't find the voice to shriek anymore; all words had abandoned him. What was the point when they only fell onto deaf ears?

Tony keeled over his father's body, placing his head on his father's bloodied chest, imagining the heat that used to expel from it, despite the chill that he was now withering against. Tony curled his arms so tightly around his abdomen that he could hardly breathe, petrified that his body would collapse, would cave in upon itself, would shatter into a million tiny pieces.

The hysteria and delirium were baring down upon him, tainting his mind like snake venom churning through blood. Releasing a ragged gasp of horror, Tony abruptly shoved himself away from his father's body, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that sparks danced behind his lids, his entire frame quivering from more than just the sheen of sweat that glazed over his skin like a sheet of ice. He shook his head profusely from side to side, attempting feebly to rid the images that remained stubbornly plastered to the walls of his brain. Hesitantly, he peered open his eyes once more, begging that he was only dreaming this, that he'd stir awake and his father wouldn't be lying on a field of seething ash and rubble, singed and bleeding raw. But as his eyes bored into that ghostly white face, a cold, furling slush gurgled in his stomach and a strangled cry slid through his gritted teeth as he shot to his feet, despite the tremors that quavered viciously through his legs and staggered across the blood-covered earth, weaving in between sharp daggers of steel that spiked from the ground, unable to withstand any longer those sunken eyes, the clouding crimson, the pale flesh, the haunting and heart-wrenching reality of his loved one being clawed so brutally away from him once again.

Blinded by tears, Tony bolted through the stretch of unrelenting blackness, the overwhelming grief licking ravenously at his heels as he struggled to hold the pace. His lungs were crushing beneath the pressure of his shallow, fitful gasps, the lack of oxygen causing his vision to swim with dizziness. His gut coiled with bile and he retched dryly, his abdomen convulsing agonisingly. A conflict was bubbling inside between his body and the emotions that loomed over him like dark, toxic clouds, blurring his thoughts, numbing his mind and shredded ruthlessly at his soul with razor-sharp claws.

A startled wail gushed from his lips as his legs slipped from beneath him and he lurched forward onto his hands and knees, clotted with his father's blood. His bones jarred against the black ground and a hiss slid through his clamped jaw, yet the mild affliction was nothing against the sorrow seeping into the fabric of his soul, like a slow-moving, agonising drug sizzling through his bloodstream. He crumpled into a heaving fit of strangled cries, tears cascading over his skin and puddling around his fingers. He wondered feebly if he'd eventually drown in the tears he'd spilt; oceans could have formed with the water bursting from his eyes.

"Let's try that, shall we?" jeered a callous voice in his ear and just as Tony's heart momentarily paralysed in its erratic beats, a harsh chiming sound splintered through the air as dense panels of glass rose from the murky darkness, a box sealing completely over his head. At first, he stiffened, stifling his own sobs for a moment with a ruthless swallow of oxygen. He staggered backwards until his shoulders collided with the chilling wall of glass behind him, causing his limbs to seize completely. He trembled weakly, gazing upward through the transparent surface to the sky of no stars above, listening, waiting fretfully for the next horror to begin.

A strange murmur resonated along the glass walls, gradually followed by an ominous hum, and then by a heavy gurgling, flowing and churning. His bloodshot irises dropped to the glass floor beneath his feet, and with his suspicions proving themselves correct, clear, lapping water streamed over the glass, drenching his ankles in frigid ice. There was no origin to its existence; it was just - existing - bubbling and frothing as it rose at a fleeting rate.

Tony froze, too mortified to react, his palms pressing into the glass wall as though hoping he'd seep through it. Yet as the liquid surged around his knees, his gaping mouth tugged further towards the ground, the blood in his tear-stained cheeks draining to his heels. A yelp grated his throat as he swivelled himself around to face the glass, battling against the current that threatened to sweep him from his feet. He levelled his fists, pummelling his knuckles against the wall in a frenzy of panic that simmered within his veins. His blood turned to ice as he noticed how his manic efforts barely inflicted an indent in the solid, impassable glass.

"Think, Stark! Think!" Tony scolded himself in a rasping, strangled voice as the water chugged up to his waist, slushing around him in malicious waves. He propelled his entire body into the wall, his eyes flooding with renewed, withheld tears of frustration and fear. Not even the tiniest of fractures formed on the translucent surface and as the water levelled with his neck, he found himself being drawn off his feet and into the torrent of water splashing against the glass screens. He was struggling to keep his head above the surface as the waves crashed over his head, shoving water down his throat and into his screaming lungs.

The box had almost reached its capacity. Just as Tony gulped down a desperate breath before the water closed entirely over his head, an idea struck him. The corners, the weakest point of any shape. Completely submerged beneath the surface, Tony slammed the heels of his feet into the nearest corner of the box, hammered his palms against it, pleading for something, anything to give. His lungs were ablaze and he writhed within the barricade, shadows casting over his vision as he yowled furiously, jabbing one final kick at the corner before the darkness hovering around the edges of his perception threatened to yawn open and swallow him whole.

And that final kick was all that was needed for the glass to shatter.

Water cascaded across the vast darkness, Tony streaming out with the flood, drawing blood as splinters of glass grazed against his skin and imbedded into his flesh. He came to rest on his side, his body wracking harshly as he coughed and spluttered, water spewing from his lungs, seething his throat. At first, he was too drained and waterlogged to even attempt to raise his head, the chills raging in his bones causing him to shiver violently, his teeth chattering unrelentingly.

However, as an inkling sensation of pending danger loomed over Tony, ringing like a silent alarm through his skull, he swayed to his feet and staggered towards the ominous alleys of New York that had expanded before him, reining him in. Slinking through the shadows, Tony eventually flopped down onto the concrete, soaked to the core and trembling, yet as he could no longer battle against the grief and exhaustion gnawing at the feeble stores of resilience he had remaining, he allowed unconsciousness to claim him with silent tears etching down his face...

NO ONE'S POV

The room was terse with tension. No one moved a muscle. No one spoke. No one dared to breathe. And as the eerie, gut-wrenching sounds that exploded from both the computer's speakers and the boy who lay still in a constricting furl of bedsheets, the space rendered silent except for the horrible, agitating beep of erratic vital signs.

Howard was the first to swivel his eyes away from the screen, lowering them down onto the features of his son, an infuriating lump expanding in the back of his throat at the sight. Tony's body was jerking and rattling with shivers, so much so that the cot he rested on vibrated beneath his feverish frame. His cheeks were dripping with tears and sweat which had drenched the pillow resting under his head. His injuries only added to the turmoil, giving Howard the perception that his son was so frail that he might just fracture into smithereens underneath the scrutiny of his gaze. The visions that had erupted across the screen jarred furiously into his resolve and for the first time since he'd reappeared from his captivity, he truly understood Tony and the immense struggle his son had endured from his supposed 'death'. It was relieving yet harrowing in the same instant.

The objects that had been darting across the space clattered harshly to the floor as Tony's distress finally dimmed down. Agent Hill hesitated before clearing her throat and starting to speak.

"Can you usually sleep in dreams?"

"I think in Doom's dreams you can," answered Rhodey with a solemn gloom hovering over his face.

"And how did he wake up the last time?" Fury chimed in, his baritone voice as unflappable as ever.

"B-by realising that it wasn't real," Pepper croaked, her emerald eyes cast down to her feet. "That's how he got out the last time."

"I see," Fury replied, turning on his heels to fix his gaze back on Tony. "Well, for his own sack, let's hope he realises it soon." Turning to the doctor, he continued. "Give me a full report once the patient reawakens." Without another word, he exited the ward with Agent Hill in stride behind him.

Not even a second passed before Pepper stubbed her heels furiously into the floor, a frustrated huff exploding from her lips as her head snapped upwards, her eyes brewing with hot tears as she stomped over to Tony's bedside.

"Tony!" She growled, slamming her palms down on the metal bars surrounding the cot. "We told you not to go! We said, 'Don't you remember the last time?', but NOOO! You said you'd be careful, but here you are! Now, you better wake up, Tony! You better wake up! Because there is no 'Team Iron Man' without you. Do you hear me, Tony? Do you hear me?!"

"Wow, Pepper!" Rhodey cried, a mixture of alarm and concern flooding his features as he curled his arms firmly around Pepper's waist and dragged her ruthlessly towards the door. Training his startled gaze on the adults, he chuckled nervously. "Just excuse us for a minute. Where going to calm down...in the hall!"

As the door slipped shut behind the struggling teens, Roberta placed a condoling hand on Howard's shoulder, grasping his attention as he raised his azure gaze to face her.

"Do you need a breather too?" She asked, her chocolaty eyes riddled with sympathy.

With a heaving sigh, Howard shook his head, a strained smile lacing his lips that didn't reach his somber eyes. "No, I think I'll stay with Tony for a while."

That was his hint that he wished to be alone and a sense of understanding passed between them before Roberta soundlessly wandered out of the room.

Howard allowed his stare to linger on the Tony lying limp on the screen before his eyes drifted back to the Tony quivering beneath the bedsheets. Extending a hand, he entwined his fingers with Tony's, hoping that the warmth would reach him in his delusional state of mind. To be honest, he'd expected something like this happen eventually. Immortality did not come in gleaming suits of iron armour, despite the common belief. Karma always had its ways of taking vengeance on those who even for a second believe that they could call themselves invincible, because no one was ever truly tied down to this life.

Yet Howard didn't have the strength to brew up any kind of rage. He could only be concerned over the dire plight of his son's choices that struck from all angles and hope that somehow he'd manage to embrace the pieces that remained...

XXX

The tiresome night gradually dwindled into noiseless dawn and with it, Howard stirred, raising his head from his arms, to the rampant screeching of vital signatures springing up the charts in erratic, fitful pulses. Objects were jostling and streaking across the room, hammering against the walls like birds possessing broken and tatted wings. Howard instantly darted his eyes to the computer screen as doctors and nurses gushed into the room, observing holograms of Tony's readings and piercing IVs into the veins surfacing beneath the skin of his wrists. Pepper and Rhodey were the next to enter, stumbling over to Tony's side with sleep still hazing there eyes. Roberta strode in next, startlingly alert for this kind of hour as she skirted the cot, her forehead creased with worry. General Fury and Agent Hill were the last to file in, demanding for reports and statistics on the patient. Yet Howard barely acknowledged their frantic presence, his vision fixated on the screen.

As the teen on the bed jolted and shuddered, moaning and whimpering, the figure on the screen unfurled himself on the cement and raised his cheek, quivering as though the effort to keep his head attached to his shoulders was a mighty struggle. With his lips parched blue, his body heaving with shivers, Tony was awake...


	4. Chapter 3

TONY'S POV

An unrelenting ocean of darkness distilled across the sky, not even the slightest of stars rippling across its blunt surface, devouring all light in one single yawn of its jaw. It loomed like a choking haze over the correlating skyscrapers that cast shadows of their own across the barren streets, devoid of light and shrieking with a gale that blasted daggers of ice into Tony's bones.

Tony peered up into the starless heavens, his eyes thick-lidded and heavy as he battled against the urge to let go of the struggle against the unyielding cold and tormenting exhaustion and wither back against the pavement. Yet a kindling flame, a flickering candle still existed within him, blazing furiously inside. He wouldn't allow himself to give in when not all had been lost entirely.

With his arms quivering, Tony hurled himself onto his knees, his skin burning beneath the soaking clothes that clung to his body like a dense blanket of ice. He tried to swallow, yet his throat was seething with thirst, tasting the iron of blood on his palette as he scrapped his tongue across the cracked and sticky surface of his lips. A hollow ache existed in his stomach and he cradled his arms around his abdomen, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing at his insides.

"I have to get to Rhodey's," he moaned as he heaved himself onto his feet and skirted the sidewalk on trembling and shuddering legs, focusing on just placing one foot before the other in a tedious, gruelling cycle that with each step, it drained the life from him.

Tony's breaths continuously hitched in his lungs as he staggered onward, his eyes flashing in short bursts up towards the sky, waiting for the sun to rise. An inkling feeling swelled in his stomach, making him wonder if it ever would again. Numerous times, he'd questioned in his mind if this was all real, or just a figment of his imagination. If this was living truth, or merely his mind toying with him. Yet he couldn't deny the reality of how he felt physically; the hunger, the cold, the exhaustion, so vivid and vibrant within his being that it seemed almost absurd to question its true existence.

Tony weaved through the bending streets, wandering aimlessly across the expansion of ceaseless pavers, trying to find a sense of direction in his rupturing sanity. Yet as he shambled along an alley that's appearance was identical to the ones before it, he came to a halt, almost collapsing from how much his vision was reeling. He reclined heavily against a window, his quaking fingers groping at the dust-clotted panels for support as he shut his eyelids against the nauseating dizziness that curdled his stomach. Yet just as his knees were about to give an almighty lurch, a strangled, quavering voice stirred in the silence, reverberating from a place directly behind him, familiar yet unfamiliar in the way that fear dripped from its tone, causing a bolt of adrenaline to surge through his veins.

"Tony?..."

Gulping densely, Tony steered himself around warily and as his sight shifted into focus, his abdomen clenched, the oxygen escaping his lungs in one violent burst.

Rhodey was suspended by a hand clutching at his neck, his feet dangling barely centimetres from the cement, clawing desperately at the fingers twisted around his throat, the dark skin of his lips and cheeks turning a malicious shade of violet. The figure holding his friend hostage was broad shouldered and towering, dressed completely in ivory with a narrow face concealed beneath a hooded mask.

Despite the weakness corrupting Tony's limbs, his muscles seized as his fingers curled into jarring fists, a hoarse snarl erupting savagely from his tongue. "Ghost."

A wicked cackle erupted from the figure's mask lips. "Well, if it isn't Tony Stark! Well, don't you look sick. Come for your pet?"

"He is not a pet!" Tony yelled through gnashing teeth, his entire frame quaking with rage. "Now let him go, and I promise when I get my hands on you, I'll go easy!"

"You're persistent, I'll give you that." Ghost's voice was rich with the smirk that Tony could just imagine twisting his features beneath the hood. "Or just too arrogant to see your disadvantage. But whatever; if you want him, Stark, then come and get him!"

With his quivering legs blazing to life, Tony lunged for Ghost, too blinded by hatred to truly decipher any repercussions that may occur as a consequence of his actions. With his hands extending in front of him, he propelled himself forward, grasping for the figure's torso, only...to furl his fingers around nothing, tripping clumsily over his toes and crashing against the pavement. A howl stripped from his lungs as a horrible splintering sound broke the air, followed instantaneously by an explosion of agony flaring up his side, indicating a rib fracturing on impact.

With his breaths weaselling excruciatingly from his throat, Tony vaguely recognised as fingers clawed at the scruff of his shirt and peeled him ruthlessly from the concrete, the pain so acute that a spiralling haze warped his vision.

"Rhodey...run!" Tony rasped blindly, praying that Rhodey would for once heed his instructions.

Tony squirmed as oozing, smoky breath tickled his neck, a venomous laugh purring in his ear. "You just don't know when to give up, do you kid? I should have killed you when I had the chance! But it doesn't matter now, because your luck's about to run out anyway."

Ghost's entire weight thrusted into Tony's shoulder blades, launching him like a child's rag doll across the length of the highway before his body slammed unceremoniously into a vast expanse of metal, his skull whipping headfirst into its exterior. A shrill crack split the din as though something solid had just fragmented into a million tiny pieces. The collision paralysed him for several long, straining seconds as he battled to stay afloat between the voids of unconsciousness and consciousness. His wheezing breaths struggled down his throat hazardously slow, rattling fitfully in his lungs. His stomach frothed and twisted with each throb that wracked his skull. He could vaguely hear someone crying out his name, the sound hammering against his brain, yet as his lips quivered apart, he couldn't find the strength to even utter a sound.

"Tony... Tony!... Tony!"

The voice...it was shouting...desperately...pleading... Yet he didn't want to move... He couldn't move... But his heart was yearning...screaming for him to stay awake...a kindling inferno amongst the cold, shredded apart by grief, the only piece of him that wasn't numb to the core...

The fog layering his brain receded as Tony dragged his eyes open, blinking to dispel the blurriness that was smeared across his sight. As his vision cleared, he felt as though a fist had pummelled into his diaphragm, sending the air gushing out from him, claws ripping agonisingly at the fractured remnants of his soul. Fresh tears raged beneath his eyelids, as seething as deadly flames.

"NO!" He shrieked, suffocating on the despair that was clutching mercilessly at his airways and piercings daggers into his lungs.

Rhodey was on the verge of keeling over, his legs jerking violently beneath him as his chest heaved in laboured, strangled gasps, his frame supported by Ghost's elbow clamped around his torso, impaled from behind by the slanted blade of a cutlass driven straight through his abdomen. Rhodey's eyes were wide with shock, his gaze wavering as he struggled to keep his irises from rolling upwards into the back of his skull. As Ghost ripped the blade back out, a horrible gurgling sound scoured from his throat as he crumpled over onto the ground, motionless, a river of scarlet splattering across the pavement.

A bloodcurdling laugh vented from Ghost as he admired his 'pièce de rèsistance' with the slanted white holes engraved into his mask. "A job well done, don't you think?" He didn't hesitate for a reply but instead switched into his intangible form and drained into the pavement like ice gradually melting into fluid, his last words lingering in farewell. "Glad to do business with you, kid."

Tony, with tears falling one by one until they were gushing streams drenching his cheeks, clattered to his knees by Rhodey's side, trying to ignore how the footpath was teetering harshly beneath him as rolled over Rhodey's body and placed Rhodey's head into his lap. "Rhodey! Rh-Rhodey, talk to me! Please!"

"T-Tony..." Rhodey shifted slightly against the concrete, his face carving into a grimace as his eyes squinted open, glassy from the agony that seized his being. "...G-Ghost wasss r-righ-t-t, you know...y-you do l-l-look sick..."

Tony scoffed, shaking his head furiously, causing boiling tears to splash over Rhodey's skin. "I look sick?! What about you?! You're the one who just got stabbed in the back!"

Rhodey tried to raise his hand, yet it wavered feebly above his chest as his lips managed to curve into a delicate, quivering smile. "It's o-ok, T-T-Tony -"

"No, it's not ok!" The words were torn from his throat at such a harsh octave that his voice broke, chest convulsing as he fought a loosing battle against the hysteria that he felt collide with the force of an entire ocean. "I told you to run! Why didn't you run..."

"B-because I-I couldn't...l-l-leave y-ou a-alone...with G-Ghos-s-t," Rhodey stammered furiously, the intensity flaming within his eyes like hot coals sizzling within waves of heat as he mustered the strength to pierce Tony with a glare. "T-that-t's what w-we do... W-we d-don't always a-agreeee a-an-d we d-don't always s-s-see eye...t-to eye...b-but Tony, when w-we n-n-need ea-ch other..." Rhodey spluttered slightly as blood coloured his lips a rich crimson. "...we al-always got...ea-each other's...b-back..."

Tony's mind reeled backwards to all the disagreement and arguments they'd sported over the years and felt his gut tighten at the realisation of how meaningless and unimportant they appeared now as time was slipping through his fingertips, as containable as gushing water. Tilting his head up to the inky-black sky, his voice spilled feverishly from his mouth as he sobbed, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. This can't be happening. This can't be happening!"

"Tony..."

He lowered his eyes mournfully back to Rhodey's face, watching mortified as his skin diminished of all colour, replaced by blood vessels ravishing beneath the surface of his features, a hue similar to poison. Not even an ounce of fear corrupted his eyes as the gleam of life vanquished from them, leaving only a veil of shadows behind. His breaths were congested, arresting within his lungs as his chest wrenched for oxygen, the long muscles in his neck standing out like metal hawsers with each strangulated gasp. Yet despite all this, he was still smiling, a heartbreaking lace in his features that caused daggers to gorg into Tony's heart, a droplet of blood trickling from the crease in his mouth as the corners of his lips wavered.

"Th-thanks, T-Ton-Tony, f-for be-ing the b-best f-f-fri-en-end...anyone...c-could a-a-asss-kkk for..."

Tony dipped his head, his voice evading him completely as spasms of soundless sobs quaked him from head-to-toe.

A single tear dripped from Rhodey's eyes as they squeezed shut, his words grating from his tongue and crackling like static through the din. "L-look aft-er M-Mum f-f-for me...and P-Pepp...er..." His voice rippled through nothingness, trailing away entirely to never utter another sound, never to speak a word of reason, never to explode in a bout of frustration, never to burst into laughter at something hilarious or stupid that they had accomplished. There was only white noise left to quaver in its wake, a flow of dead, pointless air that rattled like sediments of ash in Tony's throat and seethed like acrid smoke in his lungs, an echo of the previous misery on the field of blazing debris, this fresh heartache causing wounds to delve deeper and bleed out raw for all to see.

The agony that had once been twisting Rhodey's features ceased, gently, almost delicately as the skin creasing over his forehead unfolded and the eyelids covering the whites of his eyes slackened. A final exhale tumbled from his lips like a slow flux of water, streaming until his chest lay flat, motionless, the struggle at its end, and with it, life gradually flooded away. Serenity was what remained after the hurricane, a fragile peace, so soft, so calm that Rhodey could've just been asleep had it not been for the yawning, gaping whole plunged into his gut that poured with gaudy blood. It soaked Tony's jeans in sullen crimson, still warm despite the chill that had iced Rhodey's body to the touch, stiff and unyielding.

The waxy details of Rhodey's skin gradually vanished as reality smeared across Tony's vision in dim hues, glistening like watery gemstones. He could no longer hear the frigid gale shivering within his ears, only a sluggish silence as though he'd submerged himself beneath the surface of the ocean, blind and deaf to all except the friend lying dead over his knees. Tony should've felt agony rippling up his side with each sob that rattled his frame. Tony should've felt the nauseating throb of pain belting furiously against the side of his skull. Tony should've felt the twisting and curling pulse of illness forming in his stomach. And yet he couldn't feel anything. Nothing could penetrate the barricade, the barricade of brambles and thorns, encasing him in a cage of his despair, with the key melting away in the seething ashes that burned him alive.

Cradling Rhodey's head in his arms, guilt shattering his heart as he croaked, "You should've run, Rhodey... You should've run..."


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

NO ONE'S POV

Rhodey scrutinised the dying illusion of himself being portrayed on the screen, his tawny eyes unblinking, his lips splintering into a scowl. He felt nothing. Completely empty and devoid of any emotions, any feeling what-so-ever as he watched the imposter throttle on his last gaping breaths, spewing curdles of blood from the cavernous wound cleaved into his stomach.

Tearing his gaze ruthlessly from the screen, he instead converted his attention to his friend writhing against the mattress of his cot, actually alive and breathing, not some conjoined layer of pixels in a computer, yanking involuntarily at the leather clasps that were hitched around his arms and legs, sobs jerking his frame. He shuffled across the room to Tony's bedside, situating himself next to Pepper who clutched the metallic bars of the cot in a vice grip, her bulging eyes still infatuated by the screen. Reaching out a hand, Rhodey clamped his fingers over Tony's palm, wincing as Tony practically crushed his bones in the strangling grip of his fist, pleading that it was a sign that at least subconsciously Tony could still feel him through the divide that had been barricaded between them.

Howard observed almost blindly as Rhodey veered nearer, his eyes roaming for any kind of anchor that wasn't the horrible screen that reared its ugly head, shrieking with ceaseless agony. He found it in his son's face, wrenched with pain and broken with tears, yet it was real, touchable, not the intangible torment that Doctor Doom had created in his mind, preventing him from finding his way home. He traced his fingers along Tony's cheek, applying warmth into his singed, icy skin, despite knowing that his touch was invisible in the place where Tony was trapped.

Nurses replenished the IVs that had been ripped out during Tony's spell of struggling while Doctors analysed the vital signs, making sure that they were still functioning.

"Ah, General Fury?" One of the Doctors called timidly as he pressed his fingers measurably over Tony's side, a yelp cracking from the boy's lips as the fingers wriggled against something that didn't appear to be entirely stable. "If my suspicions are correct, I'd say Mr Stark has actually broken a rib."

General Fury raised an eyebrow in response, clearly perplexed.

Agent Hill turned herself away from the screen, her eyes narrowed shrewdly as the cogs of her brain struggled to digest the latest development. "But how? This isn't real!"

"No," Fury confirmed, a bluntness to his tone. "But somehow, Doom can still inflict real damage."

Roberta appeared not to be listening. She remained engrossed in the mayhem unfolding on the screen, her shoulders struggling to conceal the tiniest of quivers that quaked her frame. Rhodey tentatively unpeeled Tony's fingers from his hand and dwardled to his mother's side, striving to comfort two people at once as he tugged gently on her arm, trying to save her from the deception that was painted in plasma across the wall.

Pepper couldn't find the strength within herself to pull her eyes away. She'd hoped that someone would have dragged her to her senses by now, yet as she watched the Tony on the screen stagger from Rhodey's body, swaying and teetering on his heels, bracing his broken side in his jittering fingers, she noticed how he was tracing his steps to a certain place and her stomach plummeted. Nothing good could come from this. Nothing at all...

TONY'S POV

Tony hauled himself up the metal staircase, each rung hitching on his dragging toes as his fingers throttled the railing, his trembling body leaning heavily against it for support. Pain wracked through him with terrible intensity, throbbing to the tips of his fingers and flaring behind his temples, causing waves of nausea to claw at his stomach. He glared at the door rearing up ahead through his squinting eyelids, watching as it teetered and warped, a swirling blur of wood in his vision. He braced his side in his hand, feeling with each breath as the splintered bones wobbled and rattled beneath his touch, agony erupting with each raise of his ribcage.

Finally stepping onto the ledge, he had to curl his hands around the doorframe to stop himself from collapsing to his knees, his mouth gaping with heaving gasps as his being riled with a flame of pain. Feeling blind, Tony drummed his quivering fist against the wooden panel, his heart arresting in his throat at the dread that developed at the prospect of the conversation pending to come. How could he tell her? How could he break it to her? How could he drop such a harrowing burden on her? He honestly didn't know. He didn't know anything at all.

To his shuddering relief, the door yawned open to reveal Pepper, her blazing red hair dull in the eerie darkness, her eyes exploding with joy before they faltered into shadow as they scanned over his appearance, coated with blood and ash, tear stains streaked across his cheeks, looking ready to keel through the doorframe in a heartbeat.

"Tony!" She gushed, flinging her arms around him. He released a strangled cry as he felt his fractured ribs pop beneath the pressure, causing her to spring away, withdrawing fearfully. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Tony shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the swooning feeling that flowed queasily in his gut. "No... Accident... Drowning... Ghost... Ugh..." The words ground disjointed from the sloshing soup of his mind. Heaving an agonising sigh, he bowed his head in defeat, feeling as though it may fall from his neck at any moment. "C-can I...come in?"

"Of course," Pepper stammered, stepping aside as Tony scrambled over the threshold and practically crawled along the wall of the corridor until he reached the living room. He stumbled over the moth-eaten rug and sunk into the cushioning of the couch, shivering feverishly against its condoling warmth. He allowed his searing skull to droop backwards into the pillows, the pain engrossing his body gradually absorbing into the comfort, giving him a reprieve, even if it could only last for a few minutes.

Pepper situated herself on the cushions across from him, her back facing the vast cabinet that covered the far wall. She lowered a delicate hand onto his knees, capturing his eyes in her own, anxiety emitting from her stiffened frame in wave. "Tell me what happened, Tony."

Tony felt his chin wobble, his tongue twist back into his throat, fresh tears bubbling in his eyes, his heart scathing as though clawed talons had gorged it out of his chest and shoved it back in, leaving a gaping, bleeding hole for all to see. He lowered his face into his palms, that horrible throb lurking behind his eyes, terrified of witnessing Pepper's features sheet with blankness, diving from their pedestal of light into a boiling darkness of denial and blame. His whole body shook beneath the flood of grief that threatened to sweep him away. Concealed, his pearl-shaped tears leaked from in between his fingers and seeped like a sponge through the fabric of his jeans. The sobs were stifled first as he attempted to hide the misery, yet soon it overwhelmed him, his words washing out with the tide in gluggy, frantic strings of sound that punched through the silence.

"Dad's dead. Rhodey's dead. I couldn't save them. I was too late. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..."

The room was left hollow. Empty. The warmth that had once existed completely evaporating into thin air. Yet there was a sensation of foreboding that tugged at Tony's stomach. An eerie, wearisome feeling that slithered through his veins. Regardless of the grief, Pepper would've spoken, would've said something by now. She had no mute button, no way of muffling her words even in the worst of times. Even as her father lay motionless in a coma, she'd managed to muster her voice to snarl "Why do you care?" before storming away, a rage of despair clouding over her.

Tony raised his gaze to Pepper's face, startled by how her warm, butterscotch irises burned like two coals of ice, set like stone into her features, unnatural and unfeeling. It was as though the qualities of Pepper had been frozen in the snowcaps of Antarctica, powering down like a machine that had run out of gasoline, her beaming characteristics walled off like a mask. Yet as Pepper finally opened her mouth to speak, he saw the true actor behind the disguise and didn't need to see her peel the actual mask away to identify the wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Both Rhodes _and_ your Dad? How unfortunate."

With her fingers stretching over her cheeks, Pepper stripped off her face to illuminate another's beneath, an imposter hidden behind a masquerade of plated gold, the auburn hair lacing into cascades of blonde, her orbs of copper turning into shards of silver, as piercing as cold lasers. Whitney Stane, or rather Madame Mask was cast before him, her sleek frame poised against the couch, a small pistol in hand, wedged directly over his heart. Tony swallowed, the fog hanging over his mind suddenly blasting away, his pulse ripping at his chest, stomach and bones as he scolded himself for being so foolish as to believe for even the slightest of seconds that he was safe.

" _Whitney_? Where...what have you done with Pepper?!"

Whitney released a wicked cackle, as blunt and dry as a witch's, yet beneath the madness was a girl aching inside, aching terribly for all she'd lost and finding comfort in loathing someone else for it... And that was him, Tony Stark, Iron Man, the hero who could save no body. "Wouldn't you like to know, _Stark_?"

She rammed the pistol barrel against his ribcage, the force sending him tumbling onto the timber floorboards, the collision sparking shockwaves up Tony's fractured side, the pain caused coming out like an uproar in his throat. With his mouth cleaved open in fruitless, wracking breaths, his eyelids squeezed shut to cope, he managed to wheeze out, "I thought...you were...in jail."

Whitney's face mangled with a furious scowl as she levelled the weapon to his head and slammed the handle into his temple, carving a deep gash that splattered red blood into his eyes, sending sight and sound into a spiral that contorted his already assaulted brain. "So what if I was? I'm not in their now! I've come back for vengeance. Vengeance for what you did to my father! Vengeance for what you did to me! Vengeance for everyone else who's had their lives ruined because of Iron Man! Your father's dead? Who cares! Rhodes is gone? I never liked him much anyway! Now your pet of a friend? Maybe killing her won't matter either!"

Tony felt his face turn rigid, his jaw clamp tight, his teeth grinding, the bitter taste of fury lingering in his mouth. He blinked away the blood clumped in his eyelashes as his blue embers blazed into her slits of grey ice. "If you touch Pepper, I'll -!"

"You'll do what?" She inquired, her tongue pouring with venom. "Kill me, despite having all weapons pointed against you. And besides, I already have!"

With a flick of her wrist, a silver sphere-like grenade erupted from her palm, colliding directly in the centre of his chest. On impact, the bomb defused, sending him flying across the room and belting against the far wall, the concrete fragmenting beneath his weight. A net of electric-blue tendrils exploded from the grenade, plastering him against the wall, as sticky and unyielding as a spider's web. A paralysing spasm of agony ricocheted up his spine, sizzling to the very back of his skull and the tips of his toes. His mouth widened to scream, yet the sound melted away as quickly as it rose, the oxygen in his lungs vanquishing completely.

In his moment of distraction, Whitney swivelled around to the cabinet resting lonely in its corner and flung the doors so harshly open that they almost shredded from their hinges, revealing the true Pepper lying on the dust-clotted floor, constricted by chains curled around her torso, rooting her arms against her side, a gag tightened over her lips to stifle her voice entirely. Her cinnamon irises were ablaze with anger and panic, and as they captured Tony's, he felt his heart lurch to a halt, his blood dropping by negative degrees.

"Pepper!" With his cheek fixed against the wall, Tony was forced to twist his eyes to Whitney, who's hair was now streaming black over her shoulders as the mask clamped back over her face, Madame Mask resurfacing from her reprieve in the shadows. "Why are you doing this?"

She sauntered towards him until they were practically nose to nose, her gloved fingers grappling over his chin as she growled in reply, "I already told you, Stark! For revenge! For justice! Now you get to see your poor excuse for a friend die right before your eyes!" Whirling back around on her prey, she raised the barrel of her pistol, aiming it at Pepper's bust. Tony felt his throat close, envisioning the final beam of hope in his life trickling away and an empty, hollow agony erupted in his gut, spreading into his lungs, into his heart, to the very edges of his fingertips.

Tony gulped, trying the only thing he could do to warp the unpreventable; reasoning. "Whitney, I know you're still under their, hidden behind that mask. The real Whitney. The real _you_. The you who used to care about your friends. The you who used to defend your friends even at the cost of your life. Madame Mask is just the imposter. The mask that's changed you. It's unstable. It's made you unstable! Now, let me go. Let _Pepper_ go, _please_ , and I'll make sure you get medical help."

At first, hope gushed back into him as he noticed the rifle quiver violently in Whitney's hands. Yet her grip tightened over her weapon once more. Her heeled foot dug furiously into the floor and as an outraged caterwaul exploded from her lips, Madame Mask squeezed her fingers over the trigger and a bright blast singed from the barrel, streaking through the air faster than sonic sound and rent through Pepper's chest as bluntly as any mace. Tony heard her rattling gasp, saw her sag back into the wooden panels of the cabinet, her eyes bulging in her skull like they usually did when exciting news reached her ears. He barely heard himself scream, barely felt as the tangling net was pried from his skin, barely noticed as he crumpled to his knees on the floor, barely smelt the whiff of Madame Mask's perfume as she turned tail and fled, disappearing from his perception completely. There was only raw hollowness, emptiness that caved in his soul as he crawled to Pepper's side, sliding his hands gently under her shoulders and cradling her head in his arms, removing the cloth from her mouth that hung gaping for breath.

A beautiful caramel eye squinted open, the pain burning within it like fire, piercing the cold numbness that chilled over his own, his eyes stinging from the dryness. He yearned for a tear. He ached to cry again. To feel. Yet the faucet had closed, the river had drained to stone, leaving him beached on the flaming sand. "T-tony?"

"Hush," he cooed softly, feeling her quake and shiver against him. "It's ok, Pepper. You're going to be ok now, Pep. You're going to be fine."

She limply shook her head, her lips almost curling into an unruly smile within her ten shades of agony that tainted her body. "You know tha-t's not true, Tony..."

Each word was like a bullet puncturing his flesh, leaving widening, open caverns in his skin that bled out thick, flowing rivers of pain. Yet still he remained completely barren of tears and was instead filled by an urgency, an enflamed, agonising desire that he'd waited until it was almost far too late to accomplish.

"Can...can I do something?" Tony asked, his words lonely in the din, yet when there was no challenge to his inquiry, he didn't hesitate. He didn't say a single word, didn't utter a single warning, but slowly leaned down and swooped his lips over hers, tasting the cherry balm that still coated her lips. He didn't know any other way to tell her. He didn't know the right words to say. He was wildly, madly, insanely hoping that somehow his kiss would breathe life back into her. That he'd climb back out to find that he'd been dreaming and somehow find that none of this had been real. It didn't feel real. It felt like a haze, a cold, icy terror that he'd somehow awaken from in a chilling sweat, alone and heaving for breath, his only regret being that he hadn't truly kissed her.

Yet as he drew his lips away from hers, his eyes fluttering open, he found her waxy face, as luminous as a porcelain doll wavering before his eyes, tears leaking silently from her closed eyelids, a hole still driven through her chest, blossoms of scarlet blooming across the timber floors. He opened his mouth, beginning to stammer an apology yet she blindly raised a finger over his lips, silencing him immediately.

"Don't..." She sighed, her cheeks scrunching in a fresh wave of pain. "I d-don't won't to hear it. J-just...hold me for a while...before..."

Her voice abandoned her, clearly unable to utter that horrible, awaiting truth that was inches away from engulfing her, yet he didn't need her to elaborate any further.

"Sure," he croaked, his voice cracking slightly as he drew her body to his chest, placing her cheek delicately onto his own, feeling her hot, briny tears flood over his skin. Her fingers curled firmly around the collar of his shirt, her touch still warm, still vibrant, still vivid, flowing into his heart, and for several long moments, he could not feel any pain, not the twinge in his side, not the spasm in his spine, not the hammer in his skull. He felt peace, peace after the harrowing storm that would soon be followed by another, yet he took refuge in its pause. For a while, he could just pretend that the rest of the world didn't exist, that the past had never happened and the future was never going to come, that they were frozen in time together, holding each other in the stillness of the moment, where suffering had no meaning.

And even as he heard her final wavering breath stifle in his ear, her fingers slackening from her hold on his shirt, her body completely barren of her spirit, he felt nothing. Hollow. Empty. Cold to the brim. He didn't move. He didn't let her go. He just held onto that silent heartbeat, pretending that nothing had changed, that death hadn't just torn them apart forever.

Tony didn't know how much time trickled by before he ended the charade, raising himself to his feet with her body in his arms. He lowered her gently onto the couch and draped a blanket over her body, as though she could just be sleeping. Then he turned away and left the house, keeling against the wall of an alley and crumpling to the ground. With a throbbing ache wracking his entire body, he closed his eyes, his exhaustion guiding him into restless unconsciousness, haunted by their faces, sunken and shattered by death...

XXX

 **Hey guys!**

 **I'm sorry it's taken so long for this chapter! I've just been super lazy! I hope updating will help you forgive me. To SilverPedals1402, thanks for your amazing comments and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hey guys!**

 **I am SOOO sorry for the lack of updates! Please don't hate me! My life has been extremely busy at the moment and I just haven't had time! I hope you can understand :(**

 **Anyway, to all the amazing people who have faved and reviewed this story so far, THANK YOU! You people are just awesome! Seeing your reviews always makes me happy (and guilty that I haven't updated in so long).**

 **I won't delay you any longer. Keep reading and enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

XXX

Chapter 5

NO ONE'S POV

Pepper could feel grief surge with every expelled breath; hot, burning like an inferno inside her heart, the flames peaking gradually higher and higher, never satisfied by her long intakes of sterile oxygen. Eyes pierced her like drills trying to penetrate stone, and she turned her back to them, her cheeks mottled with red, tears spilling helplessly, smearing that retched screen in fathomless hues of black and grey. She felt a hand delicately touch her shoulder, yet she sidestepped from it, recoiling away. She was furious, furious at Tony, but also furious at herself for being so blind, so naive, not even daring to believe for a second that Tony could possibly feel the same way until the evidence blossomed before her eyes as she was supposedly 'dying'.

"I-I'm fine," she choked, practically wanting to shriek at herself for the evident wobble in her voice. "I'm just...just...going to get some fresh air." She didn't wait for a reply as she bolted out the door, thumbing angrily at her stupid tears.

Rhodey lurched forward to follow her, yet he was reined back by Roberta's fingers closing over his bicep. "Let her go," she murmured, her eyes ladened with wariness. "She just needs a minute." Rhodey, despite carrying the desperate urge to comfort his friend, succumbed to her words, ringing true in his mind, nodding as he bowed his head. Although Tony didn't know or could control their intrusion on his dreams, that was real tactful!

Howard flicked his gaze from the Tony shivering and quaking in the illusion of the screen to the Tony jolting and tossing against the mattress of his cot, his features contorted with dreams that plagued him amongst his nightmares. Howard wasn't sure how much longer he could stand to watch. He felt with each fear Tony was forced to witness come alive, he was beginning to know his son once again, perhaps in more ways than he'd ever truly wanted. Yet as his eyes wracked over the boy's scorched and crippled frame, he yearned to be able to yank him free of his coma, to stop the flood of misery that soaked into the fabric of the room, to do something, anything to end Tony's suffering.

General Fury and Agent Hill took their leave, returning to the bridge for the night as the rich orange sun faded into the horizon and was replaced by luminous moonlight. Yet none of them knew; there were no windows, only a ticking clock and an unrelenting lamp light that cascaded beams of blue from the ceiling.

XXX

By dawn, Howard was still pacing, his eyes wide and alert, not even the slightest whiff of sleep hazing over his features. Yet commotion was erupting on the screen and as his gaze peered at its pixelled surface, he felt his heart seize with dread. Both Pepper and Rhodey's faces drained considerably of all colour. Roberta clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp that fallen involuntarily from his lips. Doctors were already demanding for General Fury. And as the ominous shadows lurking near his son edged closer to his restless form sprawled across the pavement, Howard swallowed, a bitter taste foaming on his tongue. _This wasn't good, not at all..._

TONY'S POV

Tony was submerged just beneath the surface of consciousness, his visions contorted by the horrors that had tainted his life, repeating each loss, each fear over and over again, spinning like a carousel within his brain. Yet something rippled across the churning pool of his dreams, something foreign, something that caused his stomach to swoon with foreboding. _A scathe of jagged metal against concrete. A mechanical thud of footsteps jolting the pavement beneath. A low hum of static flaming in the darkness._ A flash of shock and dread sizzled through Tony's being like an electric shock, twitching him violently awake, yet as his eyes burst open, disorientation spoiled into a feeling of being smothered by an invisible hand at the realisation that he was far too late.

Like a snake, the coils struck, serrated ropes of metal clamping around his torso, gorging deep into his flesh, lashing skin into ribbons of blood. His ribs heaved against the bindings, the broken bones wobbling timidly against the pressure as his lungs strained to inflate themselves. Panic seeped through and he struggled, writhing and withering against the cement in his attempt to wriggle himself free of the twirling cage that held his heart in its grating claws. Every motion was slow, sluggish and futile, as the tethers remained unyielding around his frame, inflicting more pain with each flail as its fangs punctured and shredded at his skin. It was only when he felt a metallic, crushing fist curl around his throat that his struggling ceased and as the cybernetic features of a man once whole before getting, well, fixed loomed over him, scarlet and grey characteristics illuminated in the darkness, Tony dug his nails into the pavement, his jaw gnashing together, his heart pulsating at a feverish rate.

" _Whiplash_?" he wheezed, the muscles in his neck wrenching to breathe.

A seething hiss escaped from Whiplash's visor, rattling like bolts against metal. "Tony _Stark_...so this is the child behind... _Iron Man_."

Tony felt as though a hard, steel string of knuckles had rammed into his abdomen, his lips quivering as he stammered for a reply. "Wha...how d-do you know?"

"That doesn't matter," Whiplash snarled, his artificial hands clasping deeper into Tony's throat, causing his breath to hook in his lungs as the blood circulating throughout his system plummeted to his heels. "I've been sent by _Mr Fix_ to retrieve a parcel for him...now I suggest you quit struggling before I rip your head _off_ your shoulders..."

Tony barely managed to gulp beneath the terrible power swallowing around his throat. He was a statue of flesh, a living man frozen in a cap of ice. Confusion hazed his mind like a cloud of ash; how could Whiplash still be alive? Hadn't he been destroyed by Justin Hammer?

With his irises two burning coals of ivory between the slits cleaved into his armoured face, Whiplash eyed Tony like a ravenous predator ravishing over a pliable piece of prey. Yet with an outraged, oscillating growl, Whiplash unraveled his gnarling fingers, allowing Tony's neck to slide free of his grasp. The constriction over his throat released and his mouth yawned wide, his chest lurching with frantic gasps as oxygen streamed back into his starved lungs.

Yet Tony's moment of reprieve ended just as it was beginning as scarlet light strung across the metal cords ensnared around his torso, jagged lines of electricity exploding from its surface, delving into his skin and snaking through every cell. The roiling red static throttled and cleaved into his limbs like blinding hot knives, the agony rendering him sightless, blurring his mind with smears of crimson... Screams burst uncontrolled from his lungs... His raw flesh his only armour, as impenetrable as a sheet of paper... His head was surely going to fracture from the pain...

And then it was over, the agony fizzling out like a flickering candle flame. Panting, Tony raised his head weakly from its resting place on the concrete, his muscles still shaking and twitching with ebbing electricity. With his eyelids tugging apart, his distorted vision managed to recognise Whiplash's stoic, manufactured face swimming only inches in front of his nose.

An animated purr scoured from his amplifier. "This delivery should be...most interesting..."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Tony yearned to struggle. Yearned to retaliate against the shackles bound around his torso, dragging him step by agonising step closer to his ruin. Yearned to fight back against his captor, the cybernetic monster that held him in his clutches, relishing in every scream, every yelp, every wail he succeeded to dislodge from Tony's lips. Yet Tony felt drained, barren, blank of all colour, of all warmth, of all light. He punched his heels into the ground, each stride silently spewing out his rage, his pain, his hopelessness until his eyes stung with tears. It was the most horrible, sickening feeling to have nothing; no will, no strength, as though a void of darkness had corrupted his soul, as though shards of ice had wedged in his throat, choking him from the inside. His heart wrenched. His lungs burned. His eyes watered. Yet still he kept his chin level, his head raised up high, his shoulders bared, ignoring the violent upheaval of agony that cleaved through his entire being. He felt fragile to the core, like an icicle that would fragment if dropped from a great height. But he'd never give his enemies the satisfaction of knowing that.

Time stretched unbearably short, its length seeming to teeter on almost nonexistence as Whiplash hurled him through the city, down winding alley after winding alley, until they finally rounded a corner, a building rising from a swarming puddle of darkness, howling with a gale that could turn flesh to stone. The warehouse was a lonely, pitiful sight, a shell of its past, now a gaping piece of wood and metal, its yawning entrance unhinged and wide, its windows boarded up like sightless eyes. Tony froze, a quiver shimmying down his spine, the breath pouring out of his lungs in a one halting exhale. Panic ignited within him like a pending flame, a catching fire that raced through his blood, licking at the barriers of his control, blazing his fight or flight instinct into roaring life. It was fresh heat, burning and bright, telling him that he wasn't entirely cold, that something powerful still resonated inside him and as Whiplash yanked at his restraints, Tony keeled into the pressure, melting into motion, taking another step forward, his longing to fight outweighing his urge to run.

A cruel purr emanated from Whiplash's angular, metal skull, jiggling the manufactured cogs in his throat. "Not so brave are you now...Iron Man..."

Tony didn't reply, his hollow cheeks tensing, his teeth gnashing together, his eyes narrowing as he treaded across the threshold of barren parking lots dividing him from his fate, until he reached the entrance of the warehouse. He didn't pause in his stride. He didn't dare turn his gaze from the arched doorway hanging wide open. He just stumbled straight through, allowing the maw of darkness to swallow him in its despairing embrace.

Inside was just one gigantic space, a place of swirling and dust-clotted blackness, darker than his eyes could comprehend. Large webbed shapes looming from the ceiling like spindling spiders and towering shelves were fetched against the walls, cluttered with dampened cardboard and chunks of rusted metal. One single light beamed from the centre of the room, a spot of dazzling illumination pouring from above and flooding the floor in a splaying dot of brightness. Tony had the inkling sensation that that would be his seat for the performance about to unfold before his eyes, or was he the performer, the one who would be sprawled on the pavement, shrieking his lungs out for the pleasure of the audience remaining soundless and unknown in the shadows?

Tony swallowed with great difficulty, doe-eyed as smouldering fear brewed inside his gut. With each trembling step, it swaggered by his side, beaming with a lion's pride, until the lights flaming from the ceiling gushed over him, sweltering into his irises like blazing coals of light. The whips clawing around his body unraveled in one fluid motion, vanishing into the blackness and he gasped, crumpling to his knees, a startled cry rolling from his tongue as his wrists and legs jutted harshly against the floor.

Abruptly, laughter erupted from the apse of darkness, with many voices melded together, humourless and grating, like sharp fingernails scraping across the surface of a chalk board. Tony levelled his head, shoulders quivering, spine tingling, glaring daggers into the shadows, trying to make out the slightest quaver, the slightest shiver of movement across the din. Whiplash had slinked back into the darkness, abandoning him in the spotlight, and he waited, his ears pricked for the slightest jitter of sound, like a deer traipsing alone through the forest, listening for the lowest click of a bullet sliding into a gun. Footsteps chinked, voices cackled, echoes vibrated, murmuring like ghosts in the silence. They edged near, circling like a tribe of wolves hunting prey until they emerged from the darkness, countless figures purging from the black, cloaked in faces that he all recognised, skirting around him to create a inescapable barricade of flesh and machine. Tony's eyes bulged in their sockets, dread slamming into him like an iron heel thrusting into his stomach.

"Well, if it isn't Tony Stark," the mellow tone of Mr Fix cooed through the soundlessness, his human body very much alive and existing, not just a subconscious wiring through a screen, his mechanical red slit of an eye gleaming almost devilishly through the darkness. "I should've known that you were the genius behind the Iron Man armour..."

Tony, his hands and knees rooted to the ground could feel the confusion circuiting the thoughts within his brain. "How are you even alive? The last time I checked, you were nothing more than a brain connected to a hard drive, which I made sure I blew up myself. And Whiplash, he was destroyed by Justin Hammer." His eyes swept over the throng of faces, his fingers pointing frantically as recognition dawned on him. "The same with you, Killer Shrike, and you, Unicorn! And you, Justin, how could you still be sane after you were turned deranged by the Zombie Gas of your own design?! And how do any of you know I'm Iron Man?!"

"Oh, we have our ways, Mr Stark," Hammer chortled in his sophisticated yet distorted manner, his features half shrouded in darkness, his bony fingers clasped together over his chest. "Just a few background checks were simple enough. Yet for a while, you really did have us fooled. A pity it didn't last long."

Tony leant back on his haunches, folding his arms over his torso to conceal the goosebumps fleshing out over his skin. "What do you want from me?"

A chill sizzled down his spine as hands noiselessly lunged at him from behind, grasping his shoulders in a pincer-like hold and wrenching his arms backwards into frigid metal cuffs that fastened tightly around his wrists. His head snapped round, his widened eyes gazing into the navy-gold masquerade of Madame Mask and his features slackened, softening, almost pleading, yet she remained unfazed, as unyielding as a mountain of stone. His eyes whirled back around at the sound of footfalls nearing, only to unleash a strangled, disoriented yowl as a dense, iron collar clamped over his throat and Mr Fix hovered over him like blackened smoke, a merciless grin twisting his thin lips.

"This is the prototype for my latest invention, the Electro-Shocker. I apologise if it's a bit nippy; it has a few technology flaws, such as the voltage rising to the point of...fatal."

In his hands, Mr Fix raised a slim remote and placed a finger over the button, as though closing over the trigger of a gun. A spasm of electricity enveloped Tony's body, engulfing his bloodstream in flames. The world appeared to vanish for a moment as his body charred from the inside. All he could do was try to keep breathing as the darkness rolled over his vision, turning the edges of his brain to black. He could vaguely hear someone screaming, yet he couldn't tell who. Agony filled him, his thoughts ruptured by it, his responses overwhelmed by the power exploding inside him. And then the onslaught ceased and breath ebbed back into him. He jerked and quaked against the concrete, tears flaring beneath his eyelids.

Tortuously, Tony rolled over and scrambled onto his knees, his head lolling over his heaving chest, a sheen of sweat gleaming on his skin, dribbling like a shower of ice cold water over his body. With his head splitting, he forcibly levelled his chin, staring Fix in the face as he gasped, "Why don't you just - kill me... I have - no one - left..." That wasn't entirely true; he still had Roberta, but he'd never be able to bare looking into her eyes again, relaying the sorrowful event when he hadn't been able to save her son from his demise, only to see Rhodey's faces reflecting back at him almost like a mirror. To him, she could've been just as dead to him as all the others.

Mr Fix kneeled down and gripped Tony's jaw in his gnarled fingers. "We want to see you suffer, Tony, for everything you have made us suffer through. And now, without your armour to protect you, you are as vulnerable as what you are - a mere child... And you can't do anything about it."

"You know what?" Tony snarled, his entire frame quaking uncontrollably yet still he narrowed his eyes at Fix, rage surging through him like lave surges from a volcano, erupting from his tongue in an outburst of words and sound. "You're all just the same. You don't seem to get the whole picture. Because sure; you'll have your fun. You'll torture me until I'm begging for the end. But what happens once I die, huh? You think your vengeance, your hatred, your anger will just go away?! And then what?! You find someone else?! You kill them too?!"

Just as Mr Fix opened his mouth to reply, Tony's head swivelled around at the sound of Whitney's voice seething through her mask, looming behind him, another remote clamped in her gloved hand. "I'll be able to live in peace once your gone! You ruined my life! Now you can't have yours!"

Tony felt the fractured remnants of his heart quiver as he bowed his head, feeling his eyes cloud with hot tears of shame. "Whitney, I didn't want this. I never wanted this to happen. I never want this to hurt you! I - AH!"

A fresh wave of electricity sent him colliding with the pavement once again, a pain so intense, so all-consuming that for a moment he couldn't remember where he was, who he was, how he even came to exist in this twisted life of ceaseless agony. Ringing shrieks hacked into his skull, bellowing, "SHUT UP, STARK! SHUT UP!" yet as for its origin, he had no idea. Was the earth shaking? Why had the world turned black? Was that fire? Or if not, why was he burning alive?

And then it was gone and Tony slammed back into his aching body, gulping and sobbing, sprawled on his side, his features blanched in agony. Feebly, he raised his cheek from the pavement, eyes wincing open, fury sparking within his chest at the realisation that tears had slipped free, lingering with the perspiration that trickled down his face. Mr Fix had returned to his position in the semi-darkness, replaced by Justin Hammer, his shadows hovering over Tony, stark and distinct in the sardonic light. He raised one of his long white fingers to Tony's pointed cheekbone, causing Tony to recoil from his slimy touch, disgust contorting his face. Justin merely laughed into his ear. Tony noticed with an icy surge of horror that he too held a remote.

"You seem to not realise the extent that you are buried under, Tony," Justin gloated, his piecing blue eyes stretched wide with wildness. With delicate precision, he levelled the remote to the light, allowing it to shimmer like a metal crystal within its glow. "You see, we all have one of these remote. It each gives us a chance to have our own share of revenge. With each button pressed, it applies a small dosage of electricity to that collar, giving the wearer a quite tasteful electric shock. And the best part is, we can all do it at once!"

Tony swallowed, gritting his teeth against the pain that still jolted through him, burning like white hot needles ramming through his flesh and piercing into his bones. He pressed his face back into the concrete, his heart thrusting into his ribcage, his being throbbing with hours of exhaustion, of gut-wrenching agony, of suffering loss after loss after loss. He just wanted it to end...to fall back into unconsciousness and pretend this had all been just one stupid dream...just another nightmare that gorged him out in his sleep and tormented him until no end... He just wanted it to be over...

The electricity struck once again, simmering just beneath the barricades of his skin, causing his vision to warp and billow as though the very fabric of his sight had turned into an illusion of darkness and black emptiness. Yet instead of his memories flooding away with the stream of agony, they rose like reeling films before his eyelids, tracing back further than when he'd awoken on that field of ash, submerged in singed metal and smouldering debris. He could remember...acid-green and ebony-black, swirling around him like a vortex, dragging him into its pending doom... Doom?... Doom!

Tony's eyes burst open and the illusion of this reality shattered into a million tiny pieces. Flames roared up like ashes pouring up from an inferno, a thick, oily red that melted away the darkness and engulfed the entire building, tendrils snaking along the sides like poisonous ivy. His enemies froze, their faces smearing in the broiling heat, the colours dribbling away like paint leaking from a canvas. Standing, Tony could feel the fire lapping at his heels, yet it was a pleasant warmth, embracing him after days of cold and shadow; the nightmare could no longer hurt him. With the flames spreading inexorably, eating away at the walls of the warehouse, gnawing at the metal beams that supported the roof, Tony felt the rage expanding inside him break and his eyes slammed shut, his fingers furling into quaking fists as a yowl exploded from his throat, his anger flowing out in crushing waves.

"DOOM! You tricked me! You -! You -!" He lost the ability to speak, his fury stifling out his words, yet as a gateway yawned open in the fracturing heavens, the faces of his father, Roberta, Rhodey and Pepper beaming anxiously down upon him, his anger deflated into relief as scalding tears thickened beneath his eyelids, his throat hitching with a sob. He lifted a hand skyward as theirs plunged into his subconscious, reaching down for him.

Howard locked his fingers with Tony's quivering ones, his eyes glistening with constrained emotions as his voice rippled over the roaring fire, "It's time to come back, Tony. It's time to come back..." And with a suffocating heave around his naval, Tony was transported back into consciousness...

XXX

 **Last chapter coming soon! Thank you so much for reading guys!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

TONY'S POV

Tony's eyes fluttered open to dazzling blue lights and swimming faces, hues smeared and melded together in a sea of unrelenting tears. He could feel them as they rolled down his face, scolding and hot, dribbling soundlessly over his parched and trembling lips, and trickling in puddles over the pillow that rested beneath his head. Pain resonated from everywhere; his chest, his head, his heart, his stomach, his lungs, even the thick layer of skin that covered all of that. It stung; it burned; it throbbed. Yet it was barely significant against the immense relief that flooded every fibre within his being, a torrent within his shattered soul, quenching the agony scathing the remaining fragments of his heart.

It was all real. The room; the bed; the blankets; that horrible, thrumming beep; those faces; the pain; even the body that his conscience resided in. All real. Not just a torment of his subconscious. And despite it all - the agony, the sorrow, the tears - a grin plucked at the corners of his lips, happiness replacing the fear, the anger, the heartache, expanding inside him like oxygen inflating a balloon until he almost felt he could burst.

"Tony!" voices greeted cheerfully and Tony blinked furiously, trying fruitlessly to rid the watery blur that danced across his vision. Instinctively, he tried to reach up to his face to wipe the tears from his eyes, only to have his hands arrested by dense leather cuffs wound so tightly around his wrists that he'd lost the sensation in his fingers. A surge of panic gushed through him as he yanked again at his restraints, yet they remained constricting and unyielding around his arms, pinning him down against the bed. His breath quickened, chest heaving, tugging at the crushed bones jammed in his side. A suffocated cry quivered from his tongue at the dawning, terrifying realisation that he'd been all wrong, that this wasn't actually real and he was still trapped inside the nightmare, bound to his unconscious reality forever.

There were screams. Horrible screams...of denial...of grief...of terror.

 _Is that me, shrieking like that?_

 _I can't stop..._

 _Why can't I stop?!_

Suddenly, someone's hands reached out to him within his apse of misery and self-pity, strong, warm arms enveloping him in what he knew to be a hug and he froze, his yowls ceasing as shock and bewilderment caught him off guard. He felt the cuffs slacken and unravel from his limbs as a familiar, condoling voice whispered into his ear, "It's ok now, Tony. It's over. It's all over..."

Tony felt his body seize even further at the realisation that it was his father who embraced him. He knew that presence, that voice, those arms, those hands. The way they clutched him, swallowed him, steadier than ever. Howard wasn't a touchy-feely kind of dad, but as Tony felt the final cuff unhook from his wrist, he didn't hesitate to throw his arms around his father, disregarding every spasm of agony just to sink into his touch, raising his cheek to his dad's chest, beyond relieved to feel heat radiating from it once more. His father was alive, and although that painful knowing that he had more to lose now than ever in his life had returned once again, the solace that he hadn't lost him made him more happy than he thought he could be. He honestly didn't believe his heart could take that devastation ever again...

After a moment, shuddering and trembling, Tony unfurled himself from his dad's clutches as he brushed his palms over his cheeks, smearing away the fresh droplets of tears that had spilled free. With his throat narrowing, he spluttered on his words. "I'm f-fine now, D-Dad. I'm - I'm ok."

With his sight growing to some kind of watery clarity, Tony was able to find some distinctness in where he was. The sense of familiarity he acknowledged in the room told him that he'd been here before; the carbon fibre walls; the blue LED lamps shedding light from the ceiling; the computer system extended across the width of the space; the looming scent of sterility, similar to the stench that dwelled in a hospital ward, but not quite the same. Yep, he was certain of it now; he was stabilised on the S.H.I.E.L.D Hellicarrior, and if he was here, Fury was bound to be lingering somewhere... There he was! Standing by the side of Agent Hill, observing his little display of waterworks from the far corner. Great! Now his dignity was truly screaming, and he didn't even know the worst part of it yet...

Howard was situated closest to his side, still gripping Tony's shoulder, beaming despite how his features still furrowed with worry and how his eyelids appeared puffy and swollen with the obvious indications of tiredness. Yet his father took a silent step backwards as Pepper practically barrelled passed, followed with a little less enthusiasm by Rhodey, their smiles blossoming to their eyes. Tony had been wrong before; now he was truly exploding with happiness.

"Pepper! Rhodey!" He hailed, his relief streaming out of him in waves. Yet before he could even begin to arrange his relief into words, Pepper had literally pounced into his unsuspecting arms and planted her lips directly onto his.

Tony's eyes stretched wide. Hers were shut gently, almost peacefully as she leaned against him, her hands spread out across his chest, grappling fistfuls of his torn and burnt T-shirt. He felt flaming, intense heat expand in his stomach, rush up his neck and glow a brilliant magenta across his cheeks. For a moment, his arms flailed as he had no idea where to place his hands, alternating from her back, to her shoulders, to her hips until eventually he rested them on her waist, his entire body remaining taunt in surprise. Vaguely, he could hear Rhodey cracking himself laughing and even heard his dad release an amused chuckle, only serving to turn him more scarlet.

Finally, Pepper pulled backwards, her skin flushed and her lips blooming in a rich ruby red. For the first time, Tony noticed her red rimmed eyes and the thick tears silently edging down her cheeks.

Still gripping her waist, Tony managed to stutter out, "What - What was that for?"

Pepper released a laboured huff, lifting a hand to rub furiously at her wet face as she rolled her eyes, croaking, "Give it a rest, Tony. We saw everything that happened in your dream."

Tony felt his jaw plummet, his eyelids burst into circles, his tongue parch completely. "W-what!" It was as though a fist of humiliation and horror had thrust directly into his diaphragm, purging his lungs of all air. With his hands still clutching Pepper's sides, his head swivelled to his father, completely flabbergasted as his eyes seethed for an explanation. "B-b-but how?!"

Just as Howard's lips parted to speak, General Fury took a generous step forward, cutting over him with his sardonic tone, the slightest glimmer of humour prickling in only seeable eye. "Your use of Extremis became unstable while you were...unconscious, if you prefer. Your mind unintentionally interfaced with the computer systems here."

At the baffled expression still lingering on Tony's face, Pepper chipped in, her voice erratic as she explained, words erupting from her in a tangent, her short auburn hair floundering about her face. "It pretty much showed us a 24/7 window inside your head, kind of like a movie, yet way real! Right? And you made all these objects float in the air, which was kind of creepy, yet SUPER cool!"

A groan of embarrassment rose in Tony's throat as he sank back down into the tangled bedsheets, his hands finally falling away from Pepper's waist to claw at the mattress, digging handfuls of it with his fingertips. He squeezed his eyes shut as fury rose up within him, ranging to the barriers of his control as his face contorted, his cheeks tightening, jaw clenching, teeth grinding, threatening to pour out of him at any moment. He felt as though someone had invaded his internal privacy, unhinged it and exploited all of his secrets that were now splayed out for all eyes to see. He remembered all of the tears, the raw fear that had spewed unrestrained from him and felt more vulnerable than ever, even more so than the time he'd completely broken down at Dad's supposed 'funeral'. And that had just been in a bathroom with Rhodey as his only witness.

Tony felt a hand curl around his chin and gently raise his head upwards. Out of stubbornness, Tony kept his eyes sealed closed, shaking with the fury and humiliation riling inside him. "Tony, look at me," his father's voice murmured softly, yet the way he spoke was orderly and demanding, one not to be trifled with. With a low, growling exhale, Tony dragged open his eyes to level with irises an identical hue of blue to his, cool with content despite how his blazed with anger.

"Forget it now, Tony," Howard cooed, his tone firm but soothing as his words washed over Tony. "Your reactions were human; no one could ask any more of you."

Tony flinched in his dad's grasp, his mouth clamping shut even harder as he struggled against the tightness that twisted inside his throat, fuelling a fresh wave of infuriation towards himself. No matter what happened, he was going to clutch onto the remnants of dignity he had left for dear life. He was Iron Man; Superheroes didn't break. They didn't fall apart. They didn't cry.

And yet he had, so many times. As his father's corpse lay scorched in the field of ash; as water preached his lungs and buried him alive in that unbreakable box of glass; as Rhodey choked and spluttered on his own blood, a wide hole impaled through his abdomen; and as he arose from the nightmare that had kept him imprisoned to his worst fears, realising that out of all that, none of it had been real. He didn't feel like a hero. He felt like a child that had bitten off far more than he could possibly hope to ever chew. A boy, playing the role as the man. A human clad with an inhuman suit of armour. Pretending to be immortal when he was just as mortal as the guy next door. Had he really blurred the silver lining so much that he'd completely abandoned his humanity? Had he really steeled his heart so much that cold hard logic was all that had been left to quiver in its wake? Because if he had, he'd served to become everything he hated.

Tony winced again, tossing his head furiously, his anger draining away to be replaced by a stone of dread dropping painfully into his gut. He tried to shake himself free of his father's grasp, yet Howard's fingers were hooked like a vice over his jaw, refusing to budge, despite how much he squirmed. "Tony!" Howard cried, his eyes growing large, clearly startled by his son's reaction. "That's enough, Tony! You're ok!"

"No, Dad," he croaked, his voice trembling as he gave up his futile struggling, instead pressing his eyelids shut tightly so he no longer had to gaze into his father's face and witness the disappointment that would surely flare within it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry to you, to Roberta, to Pepper, to Rhodey. I'm sorry I went after Doom; I thought I could handle it, but clearly I was wrong. I just - I just got so caught up in getting revenge, in getting payback for what happened to you...that Iron Man lost its meaning. Iron Man was never about getting revenge, about making his enemies suffer just as much as they'd made him suffer. He was about caring about people - about saving live - just as his father had. I didn't mean to become so blind, so full of hatred that I couldn't see straight anymore. I was an idiot, and I'm sorry."

Tony gulped thickly, shame burning inside his chest, a heavy burden on his lungs, making it difficult to breathe, to concentrate as he awaited for the harsh words to punch into him like blunt knives. Yet he only felt the hand around his chin fasten further, nails burying deep into his skin, yet it wasn't a gesture of anger or frustration, but one of exasperation and desperation. Tony squinted open an eye, still fearing rejection and criticism, only to see his father's face arranged in a sorrowful smile, beaming with love, a warmth projecting from him in a way that could only be compared to basking in the infinite glow of the sun.

"Tony, people make mistakes. People mess up. It's just part of being who you are; a human being. You just need to acknowledge it when you do and learn from the experience so you don't make the same mistake again."

The corners of his eyes began to sting and Tony blinked angrily as he averted his gaze to the ceiling, attempting pitifully to rid the damn tears from his eyes. He felt silly, stupid, a foolish kid that had stuffed up more times than he could begin to comprehend. With a belated sigh, he nodded and was relieved to feel the hand withdraw its hold on his face, as though satisfied by his wordless reply. Tony hunched over, placing his face in his hands, applying the palms harshly against his eyelids, watching as sparks burst beneath them. A sudden drowsiness flooded over him; he felt as though he'd aged a decade or two without a wink of shuteye in the time of a heartbeat. You'd think he'd be overactive and alert after three days of being stuck in a coma, but he felt like the equivalent of the living dead.

Tony felt a new hand fall on his shoulder and his gaze snapped from his hands to Rhodey's face, blanched with his own exhaustion yet holding a look of finality and wisdom. "Listen, man. You've stuffed up a lot over the past two years."

Tony ground out a humourless laugh between gnashed teeth. "Gee, thanks, Rhodey. A great way to bring up my spirits right now!"

Rhodey just sighed, shaking his head with irritation. "Just hear me out, Tony. But when you do, you always come round and pull off something that saves more lives than anyone thought you could. I don't know how many times we'll have to tell you before it gets through your giant head, but you don't have to do this alone. Forget about Doom, man; we'll figure out something to take him down. Together."

"Yeah, Tony," Pepper chimed, stepping forward and curling her arms around both Tony and Rhodey's shoulders, her face glowing with a smile. "We're Team Iron Man; nothing can break us."

Tony felt the bitterness drip away completely as a sheepish smirk twisted his lips, his eyes roaming over his friends with a sense of contentment. "Thanks, you guys."

"Now come on, big hug!" Pepper cheered, compressing them all into an embrace which was received with great retaliation by the two boys.

"P-Pepper, I think you just crushed my spine."

"Get. Off. Pepper. Can't. _Breathe_."

Pepper gradually released them, bellowing with laughter - her hands resting on her hips, her head thrown back, strawberry red locks fluttering, shrill giggles pouring from her lips in the beautiful way they do - and Tony felt his heart speed in its hammering rate, his own laughter tumbling free, ignoring the jerks of pain it triggered along his ribs. Abruptly, her spout of sniggering quelled to a halt as she extended her hand to his and entwined their fingers together, her butterscotch orbs round and shimmering as they peered hopefully into his eyes. Tony felt his gut twist with a strange cocktail of nervousness and excitement; _now_ his heart was beating out of his chest.

With his gaze drifting from their locked hands to her keen features, Tony stammered, his mouth turning dry, words tugging from his tongue congested and strained. "Right - um - Pepper..."

With his panic rising, Tony turned to Rhodey, his face warping painfully as he silently pleaded for his friend's advice, yet Rhodey just shrugged, appearing nonplussed by the circumstance. "All yours, dude."

Tony felt the heat blemishing over his face once again as his lips parted and closed repeatedly like a fish that had forgotten it could breathe without its mouth. Her body was merely a wisp away, her full, silky lips irresistibly close, as though she was actually trying to tease him to take the final step and swoop forward, capturing them on his own. For a heartbeat, an internal war raged on inside him, battling his desire as though it was his arch enemy. Yet eventually, he managed to hook an anchor into himself, knowing all too well that she deserved an explanation first, heaving a sigh as he began to speak, struggling to keep his eyes trained on anything but her lips.

"Listen, Pepper; before we do anything, there's just something I have to say -"

"Ha, I knew this would happen," Pepper exhaled, her eyes drooping sadly as a cold smile shadowed over her features that were now downcast with disappointment. "I suppose you're just going to say that it was an accident, that you didn't know what you were thinking, that you want to talk about this later."

"No! Pepper," Tony cried, tightening his fingers around her hand as his stomach clenched with a sudden swoon of dismay. "I want to talk about this now, just - listen to me for a second. It wasn't an accident when I - when I - kissed you earlier, ok? I'm sorry you had to find out this way; I was going to tell you so many times. I would wake up each morning, saying I was going to tell you, but then - something would come up, or...when I got the chance...I would just chicken out..." He paused, a shuddering breath escaping from his lips as hers came back into view and he struggled against the invisible rope furled around his jaw, slowly drawing him closer and closer until his lungs felt entirely barren of oxygen, causing him to squeeze his eye shut, gasping in a haggard breath, recoiling slightly as he continued. "I was just going to tell you...before, but when I saw you were dying, something came over me and I couldn't stop myself... I would've regretted it forever if I didn't do _something_. So I just...kissed you..." With guilt and chagrin weighing down upon him like a dense, suffocating blanket, Tony pulled his eyes open once more and forced himself to gaze into her face, despite how much it pained him. "I'm sorry..."

"Aw, Tony," Pepper uttered softly, her warm breath lightly tickling Tony's neck as she tilted further forward to speak near his ear, as though conversing something sacred and private she didn't want anyone else but him to hear. "It's ok; I don't care anymore anyway. You've told me now, and that's all that matters, even if it came out in an unusual way. And besides; I kind of liked it!"

Tony chuckled, feeling his heart quiver slightly against his ribcage as he pressed his palm further into hers, that strange feeling dousing through his veins like gentle shocks of electricity. "Really? Because if you are still mad at me, I think I have something that can make it up to you. Once I'm all healed, I'll take you to the Armoury and show you."

There was a tasteful heartbeat where Pepper's face washed blank with bewilderment as her brain spun with the new information calculating behind her expanding hazel eyes. Her breath paused as every muscle within her body became rigid before a grin crept onto her face, increasing until it was gaping wide with both rows of ivory teeth glimmering in the dim light. "You didn't?!"

A smug smile lifted the corners of his lips. "Of course I didn't. Why would I for the girl I'm _crazy_ about?"

"Tony Stark! My hero!" Pepper squealed, her features as luminous as a star as she lunged forward, curling her arms generously around his neck. "I could kiss you!"

"Then why don't you?" Tony asked, a teasing smile hitching the corners of his lips as the memory of a similar occurrence resurfaced within his mind, leaving them both rosy cheeked and averting eye contact. Yet this time, there was no modestly, no secrecy, no shyness, no hesitation.

With a bubbling trill of laughter, Pepper's lips dived, slapping perfectly on his own. Tony's eyes drifted shut, the scents of honey soap, rosewood and silk completely distorting his brain as the entire world surrounding them became nothing more than empty space, flushing away as quickly as a Summer's tide. His body blazed with the heat of an inferno, feeling sparks shoot through him at the sensation of her fingertips brushing over his skin. He forgot how to breathe, yet that didn't seem to matter when she was his breath of fresh air, keeping his heart thrumming and his blood pulsing through his veins. He reached up, placing his hands on the small of her back, feeling each quaver jolt through her body as though it was his own. For a blissful moment, nothing else existed except them and how they felt about each other, until a slightly agitated clearing of the throat flinched them both back into reality, drawing them backwards from one another with flashing speed. It was as though water had doused the embers, the warmth jittering out in a breath-taking chill; the moment was over as though it had never come into reality in the first place.

Pepper unsnarled her arms from his neck, a bout of nervous laughter trickling from her lips, her cheeks almost identical to the crimson of her hair. With her lips twitching with a smile that was pleading to be realised, she mumbled, "I'll be back in a minute," before skipping from the room, an evident bounce in her heels. Tony chuckled as the door slid shut behind her and a faint whoop was heard from the other side.

Someone cleared their throat once again, this time more sardonically and Tony snapped his gaze upwards into Roberta's angled face, her eyes drawn and narrowed over him like slits of ice and Tony swallowed harshly, longing to seep away through the plain canvas of the mattress beneath him.

"Care to explain, Tony?" she asked, her lawyer's pitch back in business, scrutinising his every twitch and every daring attempt he took to breath.

"Oh, boy," Tony huffed, an airy chortle straining from his throat in his feeble hope of clearing the tension. "Where should I start?"

"Perhaps from the beginning," she prompted, cocking an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. "When were you planning to tell me you were Iron Man, if you ever were? In fact, when were you planning to tell your father about this?"

Tony winced at the harshness of her interrogation, hearing the truths within them and knowing that no matter how much he tried to say it nicely, it would come off as blunt and plain as it would if he sugar-coated it. "Look, Dad, Roberta, I was going to tell you. So many people knew that it was only a matter of time before you found out that I am Iron Man and... Rhodey's War Machine."

"Hey!" Rhodey yelped, throwing his arms in the air in a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

"Rhodey, they were going to find out soon enough," Tony sneered defensively, striking his friend with a piercing glare before exhaling once more, bowing down against the honesty that was finally spilling out of him. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you myself before you heard it from someone else... Clearly it was too late for that..." He twitched at that. "Look, I - I mean we - were keeping the secret to protect you. If Iron Man's enemies found out the truth about his secret identity, they wouldn't just come after me; they'd go looking for everyone I cared about. I wasn't going to let that happen. Although Doom finding out was kind of a set back. Plus, I knew that Iron Man would be as good as over if you found out before the time was right; Iron Man is who I am, and I'm _never_ going to give up being who I am, _ever again._ "

The room appeared to gasp in its breath, holding it as it lapsed into silence, mulling over his words until they were practically spinning in the din, swirling inside Tony's conscience and he wondered if he'd spoken too much, sending chips of his heart flying through the space so they could be grasped and observed by eyes he wished could be blind. Yet what was the point of hiding his desires, when they had already spurted out of him like his lifeblood, as raw and unshielded as a boundless blue sky? Tony reclined his head back down against the pillow, that vapid, exhausted feeling returning once more, livid with wariness and apprehension for the scolding that would surely erupt into life in a heartbeat.

Roberta's eyes had softened in their narrowness, yet still she took the liberty to once more clear her throat, despite the strain it obviously caused her, as though a jagged object was lodged inside her osophigas. "Well, James; we will talk when we get home. As for you, Tony; I can't help but feel rather disappointed that you hadn't found it in yourself to confined in me about this, yet I'm sure you father will make the right choice in deciding how to handle this."

Tony fixed his gaze on his father, his eyes stretched wide with voiceless pleading. Howard puffed out a breath, gently taking Tony's hand in his own, silently comparing Tony's burnt and scathed fingers against his own calloused ones. It revised memories of when he was younger and would always slice his hands on metals and glass that he was attempting to mould into his own creations; his father would always fasten a condoling hold on the scraped limb before turning it over in between his fingers, discerning the damage with an astute stare. After the plane crash, Tony had learnt to cherish those moments, the memories that had once seemed tedious and insignificant, as they were the first things to seep through the unsealed gapes within his mind.

Howard abruptly raised his eyes, catching Tony's in one foul swoop, vibrant blue on vibrant blue, burning with an intensity that had been etched into his own. "Tony, I want you to understand that I will not always agree with your choices, this being one of them. Yet I never tried to stop you. I never told you exactly how much I already knew, or at least assumed. From the moment I saw Iron Man in the paper, I knew it was you. Only you could have built that kind of tech. I could of stopped you, yet I don't believe forcing you to power down the armour was really going to be affective and I know that if I were your age with a weaponised, high-tech suit of armour...well let's just say no one would have been able to stop me if they tried. But also, I didn't want to stop you because I know how much it means to you. Ever since you were little, you've always wanted to help people in every way you could. I wasn't going to take that away from you then and I'm certainly not going to take that away from you now. Iron Man is apart of you, and I'm not going to punish you for that."

At first, Tony stiffened, startled by his father's words, yet gradually he eased, a smile creeping up on his face until it reached from ear-to-ear. "Thank you, Dad."

His father did not say a word, yet still he held Tony's gaze, his own beaming brighter than ever. He released his hand however, as Fury stepped forward to the side of the cot, a man carved in stone, yet never truly certain which element he belonged to; fire or ice? He gave Tony a one-eyed glare, yet instead of sinking away, Tony rose slightly beneath the covers, harnessing a glare of his own.

"You do realise the severity of what you have done? I thought I told you to say away from Doom; he has Diplomatic Immunity. I could easily arrest you for ingadging with him."

"I know, Fury. But I wasn't the one to start the fight; I was just trying to keep a close eye on him. Clearly it back fired, and believe me; I won't be doing that any time soon."

"Make sure you don't. In the mean time, we'll let you rest."

Slowly, the room filed out until it was completely empty and Tony sighed, grateful for the peace. He allowed his eyes to drift shut, overwhelmed by the drowsiness flooding through his brain and finally he slid into unconsciousness.

 _The nightmares are over. The dreams are dead. But what shall haunt him now when waking is all that remains?_

XXXXXXXXX

Hey guys! I know this is WAY overdue, but we've finally reached the end! I am SO sorry it took so long, just life got in the way. However, I hope you can forgive me with this chapter.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited, or even followed this story! Your support means the world to me and I'm so glad you all enjoyed it!

Anyway, until next time!

HeartElyse

P.S. Don't be afraid to check out my other stories, if you're interested!


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